


And Maybe I Bit Off More Than I Could Chew (BRENDON URIE)

by RockWithItWriting



Category: Panic! at the Disco, brendon urie - Fandom
Genre: Brendon Urie - Freeform, Other, Panic! at the Disco - Freeform, Reade - Freeform, reader - Freeform, you - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-22 00:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7410643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockWithItWriting/pseuds/RockWithItWriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Word Count: 1478</p><p>Requested: Yes</p><p>ok so trigger warnings for yelling, cheating ect ect. I hope this is good but??? I don’t know maybe not</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Maybe I Bit Off More Than I Could Chew (BRENDON URIE)

Falling for Brendon wasn’t in the plan. It wasn’t planned, at all. If it was maybe you would have gone about dating him better, or told your father that you were before… Before it all went to shit, to be frank. Brendon was the type of guy to get jealous when you hang out with others but do it himself. It was a flaw that you decided to push to the back of your mind, hiding it away to deal with sometime that wasn’t the present.

Of course, that was really when things started to go bad. Brendon liked to take you out and was more than annoyed when you kept putting off telling your father, but he still snuck you out of venues on tour to take you on super-secret, yet cute, dates. And you knew, of course, at twenty-two years old, that you were more than capable of making your own decisions. Dating Brendon was the the only thing you felt you had control of in your life because tour was hectic and your dad was way too overprotective. (Which was another reason you were keeping it hidden.) Pete, your father, had adopted you at nine years old and since then your life had been stable yet chaotic. A controlled chaos.

But Brendon calmed the waters. He kept you calm when you panicked. When Pete couldn’t calm you down, someone would go get Brendon.

This, of course, isn’t a good thing when Brendon is the source of your panic. He had taken you out on a date, the movies, and then parked off the road. Somehow, after ten minutes of giggling in the front seat and listening to music, you two found yourselves in the back seat, heavily making out.

“I want you to tell your Dad,” Brendon breathed, his lips swollen, as he pulled back from you. Anxiety rose in your stomach, “I want you to tell your Dad about us.” You swallowed and nodded, sitting up. Brendon sat down next to you, twisting his shirt in his hands. You wondered if he would put back on his body and hoped he wouldn’t because you didn’t want the conversation to continue. You wanted the making out to continue, even if it was in the back of the shitty rental car.

“Well,” You sighed, pulling your own shirt back on. Brendon looked at you and sighed, already knowing what was going to happen. “I can’t, not right now.” Brendon threw up his hands, sighing.

“You’re never ready,” Brendon snarled, “It’s been almost six months and you’re still not ready.” You rubbed your face, stress overwhelming you. “I’m tired of it. I’ve done nothing but be a wonderful boyfriend to you and you won’t even tell your dad!”

“I’m not ready!” You shouted, turning to him, “I can’t do it before I’m ready! Brendon-”

“-No!” He shouted and you flinched back, “Don’t do that to me! Don’t make me the bad guy! I am not the bad guy here!” He was fuming with rage, running hands through his hair, “Get out of my car,” He growled, not making eye contact with you. When you didn’t get out, staring at him in shock, he turned to you. Brendon’s eyes were alight with rage, more accurately hurt, and the veins in his neck were bulging from the stress and adrenaline in his system. “I said: GET OUT!” So you did, scrambling out the door and almost falling on your face. Brendon crawled into the driver’s seat, starting the car and pulling back into the road.

You stood, watching him pound the steering wheel as he drove away, and cursed to yourself. You hadn’t really paid attention to where he had taken you and you were pretty sure your phone was only at ten percent battery. You pulled it from your pocket, opening your texts with your Dad and sending him your location.

_please come get me_

It was a simple text but he messaged you back in record time.

_on my way_

Relief surged through you as you slumped to the ground, rubbing your bare arms. Brendon hadn’t given you back the flannel you were wearing before he sped off, leaving you in a tanktop and jeans. By the time Pete pulled up, concern lacing his fingers, you were shivering and burning with a cold fury. You stood, slamming the car door open and shut. Pete didn’t move the car, looking at you.

“I’ll explain when we get back to the bus,” You grumped, “Turn on the heat, I’m cold.”

* * *

Pete trailed behind you through the bus as you found the biggest, fluffiest sweatshirt you could find. Ignoring the fact that it was a Panic! hoodie Brendon had given you, you slipped it on and kicked Joe out of the lounge to talk to Pete privately.

“Brendon Urie is mean,” You started, “Or maybe I’m just stupid.” Pete raised an eyebrow but knew to let you talk. He was your father and you knew you could trust him but there was still fear and anxiety hovering around the edges of your mind. “I’m probably just stupid because we’ve been dating, but is it dating? We’ve been dating for almost six months and I haven’t told you because I was afraid you’d be angry and tell us to break up but then Brendon got mad at me and left me there and now I don’t know what to do.” By the time you were done with your word vomit you were crying and Pete was taking you into his arms, comforting you like a good father would.

“I wouldn’t be angry or make you break up,” Pete said, “I would be hurt that you didn’t tell me, but I’m here now and you can tell me what’s going on.” You nodded and suddenly the story was spilling from your mouth. Pete was getting angry, but at Brendon. He held you close and let you cry until you were drained, tired, exhausted and ready for bed. Pete tucked you in and you were reminded of when you were little, small and first started calling him Dad.

“I love you, Dad,” You whispered as he walked away. Pete stopped and looked back, a smile on his face.

“I love you, too, sweetie.” He shut the curtain to your bunk before stepping away, leaving you to sleep. It was hard to sleep, filled with shuffling and muted nightmares with colors that didn’t mix and sounds that were distorted and just plain scary. When you woke up, in a cold sweat, you leapt from the bed and headed straight for the bathroom. The stress was making you nauseous but maybe it was Brendon’s voice, rivaling Pete’s as he fought to see you. You opened the door and looked straight into Brendon’s eyes, red rimmed and bloodshot. You knew it was either because of weed or crying, maybe both, but you didn’t care.

“I love you,” His voice was strained, his body being held back by Pete, “I’m so sorry,” You scowled and threw the door shut behind you as you pushed past the struggling duo, walking into the lounge and sitting down next to Andy. “Please!” Brendon screamed from the other room, “I love you!” Andy sighed as you broke down in tears, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side. You don’t know how long you cried or when the rest of the band got Brendon off of the bus but when you stopped crying, Andy brought your face level with his.

“Do you really love him?” He asked, softly. You nodded and Andy grinned, “Well, you already told you Dad about you two and he seems to really love you, too, so what’s stopping you?” Realization rose in your gut and Andy’s soothing voice calmed you. You knew what you had to do.

Hugging Andy goodbye, you dashed out of the bus, hell-bent on finding Brendon. Of course Dallon pointed you in the right direction but he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“What, Dal?” You asked, bouncing on your toes impatiently. He shook his head, a pitying look on his face.

“Just, don’t do something stupid, okay, kid?” You nodded, jogging away in the direction the man had pointed you in. What could Dallon mean? Don’t do anything stupid? Sure, you could try and convince yourself that Dallon meant don’t get pregnant, don’t run away and get married, but did he? A bad feeling grew in your gut as you neared the bus, not Panic!’s bus, that Dallon had said Brendon was in.

Of course, like all cliches go, you stepped up onto the bus just in time to see Brendon’s lips lock on a bottle blonde’s, his hands snaking under her tank top.

“Alright,” You whispered, turning and stepping off of the bus, “Okay.”


End file.
